


Et Caedis In Proximo

by SassyPantsJaxon



Series: LatinVerse [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alfred is a bad neighbor, Alfred is a cockblock, Housemates, Human AU, Matthew and Gilbert just want to have sex, So is Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 05:43:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11571546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SassyPantsJaxon/pseuds/SassyPantsJaxon
Summary: When Alfred F Jones' next door neighbor goes missing, he's convinced that not only is he dead, but that the husband is to blame. If only he could prove it.





	Et Caedis In Proximo

**_Alfred -- college student, works at McDonald's_ **  
**_Matthew -- college student_ **  
**_Gilbert -- construction worker_ **  
**_Kiku -- probably also a student, I don't know. Works for Fischer Internet Services Helpline_**  
**_Arthur -- biologist_ **  
**_Francis -- artist_ **

* * *

Alfred’s neighbors fighting was nothing new. They fought all the time, in fact, it was more unusual for them not to fight. The only thing they did as much as fight was have sex. Having his bedroom directly opposite from theirs in their twin home was a decision he often regretted, so much so that he often begged his brother (and, by default, his brother’s boyfriend) to switch rooms with him.

But something about this fight felt different. It had started in their bedroom, so there was only a thin wall to separate them from Alfred, who had been ~~playing video games~~ trying to study before it started. The fights usually lasted ten minutes at most, after which it would turn into passionate, loud, angry sex.

Right as Alfred was about to reach for his headphones, the tone changed. Instead of winding down, it was getting worse. Even though he couldn’t hear their words, he could hear their angry voices. So, when the fight moved from the bedroom to the kitchen, which was directly below, Alfred followed to continue ~~eavesdropping~~ making sure they didn’t kill each other.

He waited in his own kitchen as the two continued to shout and scream as cupboards were slammed open and closed. Then something shattered and there was a minute of horrible silence before the shouting started again. Then there was a bang, one of them shrieked, the other swore, and then all went silent.

Alfred counted to one hundred. Nothing, no fighting, no sex noises, just silence. He hesitantly left his own house and walked across the porch to the other door. He slowly knocked, and waited, and waited, and knocked again. Finally Arthur answered, looking harried.

“Can I help you?” he asked sharply.

“I…” Alfred finally looked at his neighbor’s face, “Heard a commotion, are you okay?”

“Yes, of course. Small accident,” he nodded, “All is well.”

“Where's Francis?”

Arthur only hesitated for a second, but it was enough for Alfred to catch, “He's elsewhere at the moment. Now, if that's all, I really should go clean up.”

Alfred nodded, and Arthur quickly shut the door.

* * *

Alfred leaned against his front door to close it. Something was off about Arthur. _He had hesitated when asked about Francis, then lied about him. Unless he was arguing with someone else. Which meant he was probably having an affair. But it definitely sounded like Francis’ accent. So why lie about him not being there? Unless…_

He dashed back up to his room to grab his phone. He hesitated before dialing, then called his roommate/brother.

“Alfred, you idiot, you know I’m on a date!” Matthew hissed in place of a greeting.

“Mattie, bro, you gotta come home, now!”

“What is it now, Alfred? Is there another spider? You’re getting this one yourself.”

“No, it’s serious-”

“So is my anniversary!”

“But I think Arthur just killed Francis!”

* * *

Matthew Williams, one of Alfred’s three housemates, and also his younger brother, did not look amused. His boyfriend Gilbert, another housemate, looked downright angry. “Alfred,” Matthew said slowly, “The Kirkland-Bonnefoys fight all the time. One more fight does not mean Arthur has murdered Francis.”

“I never said it was murder,” Alfred mumbled, “It could have been an accident.”

“Well then why wouldn’t Arthur call the police?” Matthew threw his hands up in frustration, “And why wouldn’t you for that matter?!”

“Because I didn’t have any proof?”

“And what game were you playing before this happened?”

Alfred looked up at his brother, “Um…”

“Let me guess: one of the ones were everybody's killing everybody else.” When Alfred didn't answer Matthew rolled his eyes before stomping away to his room. Gilbert glared at Alfred, “Nice going, dipshit. Now he’s not going to have sex with me.”

“Gil, this is serious!”

“But not serious enough to call the police? Really, Al? Go to bed, you probably dreamed the whole thing anyway.”

“I didn’t!” Alfred called at Gilbert’s retreating back, “I’ll prove it!”

* * *

Needless to say, Alfred didn’t get much sleep that night. The next morning he called the last member of their household for help. “Keeks, you need to come home, I need your help!”

“I’m sorry, Alfred,” he apologized, “I won’t be home until tuesday.”

“But it’s an emergency!”

“Can’t you ask your brother for help?”

“He and Gilbert both said no,” Alfred pouted.

“Alfred, I truly am sorry, but unless I can help from here, there’s nothing I can do.”

“Kiku, I never realized how useless you are until right now!” He hung up, then stared at the phone in guilt. Kiku was his best friend, and it wasn’t completely his fault he was visiting his family instead of being Alfred’s sidekick. He redialed.

“Kiku, I’m sorry! You’re not really useless, you’re actually the best sidekick I have! Please don’t decide to stay with your family forever and never come back!”

“Alfred, it’s fine. I’ll see you in a few days.”

“Okay. Good.” he looked up as Matthew came downstairs.

He looked Alfred over, “Don’t you have a class today?”

“Shit! Keeks, I gotta go, bye!”

He rushed through getting dressed and brushing his teeth before crashing into his brother at the door. “Mattie!”

“Ow, hey!” he pushed his brother away, trying to detangle himself, “I have to be on campus too, I thought I would ride with you.”

“Oh. Well, fine. But we have to go!” he rushed out, only to be interrupted by a crash from the other side of the porch. He froze before slowly turning around.

“Bloody hell!” Arthur Kirkland, owner of the opposite side of the twin house, and possible husband killer, exclaimed.

Matthew stepped around Alfred to help Arthur pick up the items that had fallen from his torn grocery bag. Alfred watched as Matthew handed him cleaning supplies, duct tape, a plastic tarp, and a box of garbage bags. “Rough morning?” Matthew asked gently.

Arthur sneezed, “You have no idea. I came down with a cold the other day, so they don’t want me in the lab. How are your pipes?”

“...Our pipes?”

Arthur nodded and rubbed his nose, “We had a pipe burst last night. And with Francis gone-”

“Where is Francis?” Alfred interrupted.

Arthur glanced over at him, “His sister had a baby last week and he went to ‘help out’.” his fingers drew quotation marks around the last two words.

Matthew made a sympathetic sound, “When will he be back?”

Arthur shrugged, “Who knows? Could be in two days, could be in two months. It all depends on long it takes her to get sick of him.”

Alfred nodded, “I’ve heard he can be annoying,” he hinted, “Almost to the point of murder.”

Matthew turned to make a face at him while Arthur narrowed his eyes, “Who told you that?”

“Er, you?”

“Oh, well…”

“Alfred, we have to go!” Matthew suddenly remembered, “Let us know if you need anything, Arthur!”

* * *

“Alfred, you’re the one driving, please stop fidgeting.” Matthew politely requested.

“You saw what he had in that bag,” Alfred’s fingers drummed against the steering wheel as he spoke, “He has to clean up the mess killing Francis made!”

“Alfred, he told us, Francis is visiting family, and a pipe burst.”

“No, that’s just what he wants us think. You heard the ambiguous timeline. Francis isn’t coming back! Why else wouldn’t we have heard about this sister before?”

“Because it’s none of our business?” Matthew offered like it was the most obvious thing in the world, which it should have been.

“Then why wouldn't he tell me where Francis was when I asked last night? And why are our pipes fine if theirs aren’t? We live in the same house, Mattie!”

Matthew was silent. “I don’t know. I don’t know how all that stuff works. Ask Gilbert.”

Alfred finally fell silent, but it only lasted two minutes, “What if Francis isn’t dead yet?”

“...What?”

“What if all that stuff was actually to torture him? And you helped Arthur! Oh my god, you’re an accessory!”

Matthew was silent, just staring at him for a few minutes before quietly speaking, “Alfred, I think I’m going to drive us home.”

* * *

“I'm telling you,” Alfred spoke around a mouthful of his sandwich, “I know what I heard.”

Matthew rolled his eyes as he finished making his own lunch. He looked up as Gilbert entered the kitchen and took half of his sandwich. “You could have told me you were coming home for lunch,” he complained, “I would have made you your own.”

“Why?” Gilbert shrugged, “Yours is just as good.”

“Maybe I wanted a whole sandwich.”

“Fine. I’ll make another.” he reached around his boyfriend for the bread. ~~Or maybe to cop a feel.~~

“Hey, Gil,” Alfred interrupted, “Do we have the same pipes as Arthur?”

“What?”

“Pipes. Like, for plumbing and stuff. Or something like that.”

“I know what pipes are, dumbass. I don’t know why you’re asking.”

“Arthur said his pipes burst last night,” Matthew contributed, “Alfred thinks it’s a cover for murdering Francis.”

“Oh… Nope, still don’t get it.”

“Does it make sense for their pipes to be ruined when ours are fine?!” Alfred questioned.

Gilbert shrugged again. “Depends. I don't know if we have the same pipes as them. If we do, then no. But otherwise…” he shrugged once more and trailed off, the ending obvious.

“Well, couldn't you check?”

“I could. But I don't want to. Because you're being crazy, and I'm not going to encourage that right now.”

“That’s just cause Mattie will get mad at you.”

“Well, yeah.” Gilbert wrapped his arms around the blond, “And I like having sex with your brother.”

“Ewwwww,” Alfred groaned, “Gil, I didn't need to know that!”

“Too bad. That’s what you get for ruining it last night.”

* * *

The next two days Alfred busied himself with his job at McDonald's and was almost able to put his murderous neighbor out of his mind. But Monday morning he didn't have to work and his morning class had been canceled the night before, so he was planning on sleeping in, but was awakened by a door slamming somewhere in the duplex.

He looked at his clock. Kiku wasn't due home for another day, Matthew had a class and Gilbert would be at work. Arthur should be at work, but he said he had been sick, so maybe not. He rolled over, his bed was next to the window so he had nice view of the shared backyard and the freshly dug plot in Arthur's half.

...Wait, what?

* * *

Alfred knocked on Arthur's door, when there was no answer he went around to their backyard and looked at the bare dirt. It was definitely big enough to bury a Francis-sized...Francis. He kicked a clump of soil, wondering what he would find if he dug into it and if he had the time.

“Can I help you?”

Alfred felt the blood drain from his face as he looked up at Arthur, who was carrying a grocery bag. “Uhhhh…” he froze.

“You all right, lad?” Arthur reached for him but Alfred flinched away.

“Yeah, fine,” Alfred said, a little too quickly, before forcing a laugh.

“Oh, well. Um...is there something I can do for you?”

“No, no, I don’t think so.” he took a step backwards, “Although, just out of curiosity, what are you burying?”

Arthur pulled a packet from his bag, “Seeds.”

“Hey, uh, you're gonna need some fertilizer for those aren't you? I've heard that decomposing bodies release a lot of nitrogen. That's good for plants, isn't it?”

Arthur looked at him like he was crazy (which he was), “Er, right… Don't you have a class today?”

“No.”

“Well. I should probably go call Francis. Check in on him and all that.”

“Riiight,” Alfred nodded at Arthur until he disappeared into his house then dashed into his own.

He hid in his room, watching Arthur plant seeds until Matthew came home.

“What are you doing?” Matthew asked from Alfred’s doorway.

“Arthur buried something.”

Matthew came over and looked over Alfred’s shoulder. “You mean his garden? He plants that every year.”

Alfred looked up at him, “What are you doing? Get down! He'll see you!” He dragged his brother down to the floor. “He doesn't murder Francis every year.” he continued.

“Have you been here alone all day? Are you smoking something? Do you feel okay? Have you been sleeping at all?” Matthew put his hand to his brother's forehead.

“Stop asking stupid questions!” Alfred slapped him away, “Help me figure out how to prove Arthur committed husband-cide!”

“That's...that's not a real word, Alfred.”

“He's still dead, Mattie! And Arthur killed him!”

“Didn't you have to work today?”

“...Shit!” Alfred scrambled for his phone to check his schedule, “Shit! Great. Now my manager's going to hate me.”

“Doesn't she already?”

“This is not a joking matter, Matthew.”

“It never is with you,” he said dryly, “Now, if you'll excuse me,” Matthew stood up, “I'm going to make dinner.”

“Can we have burgers?”

“No.”

* * *

Gilbert slid his arms around Matthew's waist and kissed his neck.

“Ewwwww,” Alfred groaned from the table.

Gilbert glared at him, “Why are you here? I thought you worked on Mondays.”

“He skipped today,” Matthew said, “Watched Arthur garden instead.”

“What? Nevermind. Why?”

“Because he thinks Arthur buried Francis in his garden.”

Gilbert rolled his eyes, “You need to let this go, kid.” He turned his attention back to Matthew, “What's for dinner?”

“Just spaghetti.”

“Feliciano would be proud.”

Matthew laughed before Alfred interrupted them again, “He didn't necessarily bury him there. It could be a decoy, make us think Francis is buried there.”

“Make you think Francis is buried there.” Matthew corrected him.

“No, really, he could be held prisoner in the basement, maybe Arthur is torturing him and we have to go save him!”

“Nuh-uh,” Gilbert shook his head, “I'm not going to interrupt their kinky practices.”

“Maybe Arthur found other ways to dispose of the body,” Alfred’s eyes widened and his voice dropped to a whisper, “Maybe he ate him.”

Matthew and Gilbert both groaned.

“Perhaps I should have waited until tomorrow to come home,” a soft voice from the doorway said.

“Kiku!” Alfred launched himself at the small Asian man, throwing his arms around him in a hug, “You're back! Now you can help me prove Arthur murdered Francis!”

Kiku’s eyes widened, “Arthur murdered Francis?”

“No.” Gilbert and Matthew said at the same time.

“Oh. Then why would we be trying to prove he did?”

“We're not,” Matthew corrected, “Francis is out of town for a while, and Alfred thinks Arthur killed him because he heard them arguing while he was playing one of his video games.”

“Forgive me, Alfred, but don't they fight often?”

“Well, yeah, but,” his face turned red, “Listen, none of you were there! You didn't hear it! Francis is dead! Arthur murdered him! And I’ll prove it to you!...Somehow…” he deflated.

“Alfred,” Matthew said gently, “There's nothing to prove.”

Alfred glared at his brother, abruptly standing up. “Fine, just wait until Arthur kills all of us too. That'll prove it.” he stomped upstairs to his room.

* * *

“Al?” Matthew softly tapped on the already open door, “I brought you some pasta... Alfred?”

Alfred turned his music up a little louder, it was petty, but effective. Matthew set the bowl down and left.

Kiku knocked on the door while Alfred was eating, “You can come in, Keeks, you don't have to knock every time.”

“Thank you, Alfred. Would you mind telling me why you believe Arthur killed Francis?”

Alfred sat up a little straighter, “Oh, yeah, sure. So- You should sit.” He interrupted himself. “Okay, so Thursday night, Mattie and Gil were out and I was sitting here doing my homework, right?” Kiku nodded. “And then I hear them fighting, so I'm like ‘ _great_ ’, but right as I'm about to put my headphones on, they get louder. You know how shrill Francis can get. Anyway, I hear them go down to their kitchen, and I just happened to be going to ours at the same time. Well, all of a sudden, there's this...this bang. And then Francis screams and Arthur starts swearing, and then they both get quiet.”

“Just because they were arguing-”

“Just wait. So I go over to see what happened, but when I ask, Arthur says it was just an accident, and that Francis isn't there.”

“That is… strange.”

“There's more.” Alfred interrupted, “The next morning, Mattie and I are going to school when we run into Arthur outside. He was claiming he was sick, so he wouldn't have to go to work, and that Francis was visiting his sister and they didn't know when he would be home.”

“I still don't see-”

“Because! When we saw Arthur he was carrying a bag of heavy-duty cleaning supplies, duct tape, _and a tarp_. AND this morning he dug up part of his garden, _enough that Francis could be buried there_.”

Kiku was silent while he thought. “All those things together are somewhat strange. Have you tried talking to Arthur?”

Alfred nodded solemnly, “He wouldn't say anything.”

“What did you ask?”

“Um, where Francis was, what he was burying, what kind of fertilizer he uses, y’know, stuff.”

“Perhaps you should try a more subtle approach. Have you been in the house?”

“No. You know how Arthur feels about me. He'd never invite me in…” his eyes widened as he looked up at Kiku, “He likes you! Maybe you could get in!”

Kiku shook his head, “I don't think that would be a good idea.”

“You're right. To dangerous to go alone. You'll have to talk both of us in.”

Kiku looked alarmed, “I really don't know about that, Alfred.”

“Well you don't have to do it _now_ , we'll think of something later. Deal?”

“I shall do my best.”

“Great! But first we need ice cream.”

“Ice cream?”

“Yeah,” Alfred nodded, “It helps me think better.”

* * *

Their chance came sooner than planned. As they were leaving for ice cream, they met Arthur on the porch.

“Oh,” he said in surprise, “Kiku, welcome home.”

“Thank you, Arthur,” Kiku nodded, “It's good to be home. I don't have to worry about my family here.”

“No, you just have to babysit these twats,” he not so subtly nodded at Alfred.

“Hey!” Alfred protested.

“Anyway, Kiku, I'll have to have you over for tea sometime. Just let me know when works for you.”

“We're free right now,” Alfred proclaimed.

“Er, right, well, um,” he stammered, trying, and failing, to think of an excuse for why they couldn't, “Come in then, I suppose.” The two followed him in and he motioned towards his couch, “Please, have a seat. I'll be right back with some tea.”

“Alfred-” Kiku whispered after Arthur disappeared into the kitchen.

“Yes, I _know_ he just meant you, but he wouldn't have invited me in otherwise. This way one of us can distract him while the other investigates.”

“You mean I distract him while you snoop around?”

“He likes you better anyways! Just talk to him!” He stood up as Arthur reentered with a tray, “Can I use your bathroom?”

“You just left your own home, why couldn't you use yours?”

“I didn't have to go then, I do now.” he placed his hand on the swinging door, “Through the kitchen, right?”

“Actually, could you use the one upstairs? The kitchen's still a mess.”

“Sure.” Alfred said tightly. He had been planning on searching the scene of the crime, but now that was out.

“What happened to the kitchen?” Kiku asked as Alfred climbed the stairs. As Arthur explained, a new idea came to Alfred.

He could at least search the bedrooms. He started with Arthur and Francis’. Oddly enough, they didn't sleep in the master bedroom, which was at the other end of the hall. Their bedroom was clean, but clearly lived in. Arthur's nightstand had a lamp and a stack of books, Francis’ an empty glass and the tv remote. Alfred looked at the dresser, it was covered with keys, spare change, and receipts.

He knelt down to look under it. There was another set of keys, which he carefully picked up. He recognized the purple keychain as belonging to Francis. He carefully set it back where he found it and got up. He gave the room one last look before moving on.

He decided to search the master bedroom next, but it appeared to just be a guest room with only a bed and a nightstand. The last room, the mirror to Kiku’s, had a red-splattered canvas tarp spread on the hardwood floor. Alfred took a cautious step further in. There were several canvases leaning against the walls, but the room was otherwise empty.

He backed out, stepped into the bathroom long enough to flush the toilet and wash his hands, and went back to the living room.

“There you are,” Arthur said, he nodded towards a teacup, “Your tea is probably cold now.”

“That's okay,” even though he wasn’t really hungry, he took a (store bought) cookie from the plate on the coffee table, “I don't really like tea anyway.”

Arthur bristled, “Then why did you come in?”

Alfred shrugged, playing dumb, “You invited us.”

“Well,” Kiku set his own teacup down, “I'm tired from traveling, and I'm sure Arthur has to work tomorrow. Alfred, I think we should go home.”

“Whatever you say, Keeks.”

“Thank you for having us over, Arthur.”

“Of course, Kiku, anytime you’d like to come over again.”

Kiku nodded, “You must be lonely without Francis. Just let me know when.”

“Er, right.”

* * *

“I have proof!” Alfred declared as soon as he entered the house, interrupting Matthew and Gilbert's make out session on the couch.

Matthew groaned, “What now, Alfred?”

“Francis’ keys were in the house. Why would his keys be there if he wasn't?”

“I don't know, Alfred. Sometimes people forget their keys.”

“Then what about the blood?” Alfred taunted.

“The what?”

“One of the rooms upstairs had a sheet that's covered in blood.”

“Alfred,” Gilbert said slowly, “Why were you upstairs in Arthur's house?”

“Because-”

“Because,” Gilbert interrupted, “It could be considered as trespassing, which is illegal. So, please, tell me, did Arthur give you permission to go upstairs?”

“Yeah,” Alfred nodded enthusiastically, “I said I had to go to the bathroom, and he told me to use the one upstairs.”

“He gave you permission to use the bathroom?” Alfred nodded. “And search behind closed doors?”

“Well, not in those words, but he didn't tell me not to.”

“Alfred!” Matthew joined in, “You can't just go through people's houses!” he buried his face in his hands, “And the bloody room? Was it the one equal to Kiku’s?”

Alfred nodded, “Yeah, how did you know?”

Matthew groaned, “That's _Francis’ studio._ It's _paint_ , Alfred.”

“But-”

“But nothing, Alfred,” Matthew angrily stopped him, “You need to stop. There is nothing to prove. Arthur did not kill Francis. Francis is visiting his sister. For the sake of _all_ our sanity, please stop. I won't ask again.”

* * *

Alfred was quiet for the next few days. Until he realized that the Kirkland-Bonnefoy’s spare key was no longer hanging on a key in the entryway closet. “Matt?” he called, “Where’s the Kirkland’s spare key?”

“Huh?” Matthew stepped into the entryway, still holding a towel from dying the breakfast dishes, “Oh, that. Arthur asked for it back.” He stepped back towards the kitchen.

“Why?”

Matthew took a backwards step so he could face Alfred again, “ _Why_?”

“Yeah. Don't you think that's a little weird?”

Matthew blinked, “In what way?”

“Well, we didn't ask for _our_ emergency key back. So why did he?”

“Probably because you've been acting weird and snooping around his house.”

“Honestly, it never occurred to me to use his key.”

“It’s probably better that way.”

Alfred watched Matthew go back to the kitchen. Then he realized Francis didn't have a key to the house.

“Matt?”

“What?” he sighed.

“What about Francis?”

“What _about_ Francis?”

“Well, if he is just visiting his sister, how's he going to get back in?”

“I assume Arthur will let him in.”

Alfred was silent, thinking for a minute, “Hey, Mattie,”

“ _What, Alfred?!_ ”

“You know what happens when you assume, right?”

* * *

Alfred rubbed his forehead as he sat down on the front steps. Matthew had pretty good aim.

“What's wrong with you, kid?” Gilbert asked when he came out to leave for work.

“Mattie hit me with a plate.”

“Well, I'm sure you deserved it.”

“Gilbert, do you really think I'm crazy?”

“What? Because of this whole Arthur/Francis thing?” Alfred nodded. “No. I think you heard something weird while you were playing a video game, and you got freaked out. I also think your obsession is interfering with my sex life. So, if you must investigate, please leave Matthew out of it.”

“Huh,” Alfred sighed.

“I don't like that look, so I'm leaving. Don't get in any more trouble, ‘kay?”

“No promises.”

“I didn't hear that,” Gilbert said as he got in his truck, “I know nothing of your plots.”

He watched Gilbert drive away before pulling his phone out. He quickly sent a text to Kiku. _We need to find a new plan._

* * *

Two weeks after Francis’ disappearance, Kiku was working, Alfred had not (yet) found a new plan, and Matthew and Gilbert were heading out on another date. “Do not fuck this one up, Alfred.” Matthew warned him.

“I won't, jeez. Why do you two go on dates anyway? You already live together, how much more romance do you need?”

“A lot when we also live with you.”

“’Kay, Schatz, let's go,” Gilbert said as he entered the room, then pointed at Alfred, “I plan on having sex with your brother tonight, don't mess up my chances again.”

“Why do you people keep telling me that?” Alfred grumbled.

“Gilbert, can you grab an umbrella?” Matthew called from the porch.

“Better take two,” Alfred added, “Don't want you two getting to close.”

“Ha ha.” Gilbert took a single umbrella from the closet.

Alfred went to play some video games, ignoring the rain and thunder until it turned to a different sort of pounding. “What the-” he looked at the clock, nobody was due home yet. He went downstairs, only bothering to turn on the hall light. He opened the door for the unknown person, and cried out in surprise when he recognized them.

“I know, I'm a mess,” Francis sighed, “But I don't have my key, and Arthur isn't home. Can I have the spare?”

“Ummmmm…” Alfred just stared at his neighbor, who was not only soaked from the rain, but also pale, covered in mud, and had a bloody cut on his face.

“Alfred? Did you hear me? Can I have my spare key?”

“...I don't have it.” Alfred finally whispered.

“Why not?”

“Arthur asked for it back.”

“Why? Nevermind. Stupid man. Can I at least come in?”

“Sure.” Alfred stepped back, letting Francis in. “Don't you have a...suitcase...or something?”

Francis cringed, “Yeah, I forgot it at the train station. Would you mind if I used your bathroom? Possibly your shower?”

“Yeah,” Alfred numbly pointed at the ceiling, “It's upstairs.”

“Merci.”

He waited until he heard water running before calling Matthew, who didn't answer, calling Gilbert, who also didn't answer, and calling Matthew again. “Mattie, you have to help me!” Alfred shouted when his brother finally accepted the call, “Francis is here!”

“I...don't see how that's a problem.”

“Because he looks like he crawled out of his grave!”

Matthew sighed, “Where is he now?”

“Using our shower because he can't get into his house.”

“If he's that much of a mess, you should probably let him borrow some clean clothes.”

“I'm not letting a ghost haunt my closet!”

“Then let him borrow something of mine or Gilbert's.” Matthew sighed again, “Goodbye, Alfred.”

“Matt-” Matthew hung up. Alfred stared at his phone for a minute, “Fuck you too!” He paced the living room for a few more minutes before going to the laundry closet and digging out a clean pair of Gilbert's sweatpants and Matthew's favorite tee shirt. He went upstairs and gently tapped the bathroom door. “Francis?” he set the clothes on the floor, “There's some clean stuff for you borrow out here.”

“Thank you!” Francis’ voice was muffled by the door and running water.

Alfred went back downstairs and paced some more. Then he called Kiku.

“Fischer Internet Services Helpline, this is Kiku. How can I help you?"

“Keeks, Francis is here.”

“...Alive?”

“I don't know, man. He's pale and looks like he climbed out of his own grave. He's either a zombie or a ghost now.” Alfred swallowed, “Either way, I'm screwed.”

“Good luck, my friend. I will pray for your soul.” Kiku hung up.

“Wait, Kiku, no!”

“Is something wrong with Kiku?”

Alfred turned around to find Francis standing behind him, absently combing his hair with his fingers. He looked cleaner, but was still rather pale, and his face wasn't bandaged.

“Um...no. Just chatting.”

“That didn't sound like chatting,” he paused, waiting for a response, then continued when it didn't come, “Thank you for letting me use your shower.”

“Yeah. Sure. Do you know when Arthur will be back?”

“He might be working late, he does that sometimes, but-” he cut himself off. “I'm imposing, aren't I? I'm sorry, I-”

“It’s cool. Just, y’know…” Alfred trailed off, unsure how to continue.

“Where is everyone? It’s not usually this quiet.”

“Kiku had to work. Mattie and Gil are probably having sex on the side of the road somewhere.”

“Oh.” Francis awkwardly glanced around, “Maybe I should go see if Arthur's home.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Alfred followed him outside. On the porch they found Arthur himself shaking out his umbrella. He looked up when he heard the door open.

“Oh…” he looked surprised to see Francis, “What are you doing here?”

“I came home, but I either lost my key or forgot it. And you weren't home.”

“I was working late. Got caught up in some research. You could have called me.”

“My phone died,” Francis said miserably.

“Your _phone_ or just the battery?”

“I don't know.” he stepped further onto the porch.

“Useless frog.” Arthur's eyes widened as he got a good look at his husband, “What happened to your face?”

“I missed the bus, so I had to walk home. I fell. It was horrible, but at least no one saw it. I hope.”

“You really are useless.”

“That's why I have you.”

Alfred cleared his throat, reminding them both that he was still there, “Weeeeelll, this has been nice, but I have a game I need to finish, so bye.” the Kirkland-Bonnefoy’s barely had time to respond before he slammed his door.

* * *

“Well?” Matthew said from Alfred’s doorway when he got home.

“Well what?” Alfred asked innocently.

“How's Francis? Not dead I presume?”

“He could still be a zombie. I'm not convinced. Plus Arthur looked pretty surprised to see him.”

Matthew groaned, “Goodnight, Alfred.”

* * *

Francis swirled his mug of hot chocolate while Arthur gently placed a band aid on his cheek. He made an uncomfortable sound, “Why’d you take the spare key back?”

“Alfred was snooping around, asking more questions than were good for him. I think he searched upstairs too.”

“What was he doing in here?”

“I only meant to invite Kiku over for tea. Alfred invited himself over that very minute.”

“Did he see anything?”

“No, I kept them out of the kitchen. But I didn't want him getting any ideas when I went back to work.”

“Mhmm.” Francis nodded, “Is the kitchen clean now?”

“Of course. Everything is taken care of.”

“Good. What kind of questions was he asking?”

“Oh, all kinds.” Arthur sat down across from his husband, “I think the weirdest one was when he came over while I was planting flowers and suggested that a decomposing body would make good fertilizer.”

Francis raised an eyebrow, “Do you think he suspects anything? Do we need to do anything about him?”

Arthur shook his head, “No, he probably told the others, you know how loud mouthed he is. It would just look suspicious if anything were to happen now.”

“Mm,” Francis scowled, “So what now?”

“We should probably hold off on any new projects for now. And if he remains suspicious of us, then we could consider moving.”

“I liked it here.” he pouted.

“I know, I do too.” Arthur sighed, “You look tired. Why don't we go to bed, and we'll cross all those bridges when we come to them.”

Francis nodded and kissed him, “Smart. I knew there was a reason I married you.”

“You mean beside my dashingly good looks?”

Francis snorted, “Oh, Arthur, don't make me laugh.”

“Hey!”

“...Arthur?”

“Hmm?”

“How do you dispose of the bodies?”

Arthur kissed his husband's nose, “You let me worry about that. ’Kay?”

“Mhmm. And Arthur?”

Arthur sighed, “Yes?”

“I love you.”


End file.
